


The Forever Job

by JeanBoulet



Category: Leverage, Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Immortal Husbands, Immortality Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Nudity, OT3 Cuddles, Seelie!Parker, Vampire!Hardison, Werewolf!Eliot, dangerous potions, no one actually dies, non-sexual nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanBoulet/pseuds/JeanBoulet
Summary: Alec sighed. “What you’re telling me is that a werewolf, a vampire, and a full-blooded Seelie have robbed a total of twenty-six Institutes in North America over the past two years--and all we have are their names?”Underhill shrugged. “I honestly have no idea why the Clave waited so long to bring us in."-Or, the one where your favorite Leverage ot3 are in the Shadow World, and there's way more at stake than a few stolen relics.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 91





	The Forever Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EchoBleu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoBleu/gifts).



> Okay so this all stemmed from the below prompt from EchoBleu on discord, and I just fell face-first into a Word doc and emerged like yesterday. Needless to say, this is for Echo! I hope you like it, dear!
> 
> _Leverage SH AU. Werewolf Eliot, Vampire Hardison & Seelie Parker are a team of thieves (recently gone off from Warlocks Nate and Sophie maybe) and the NYI has been trying catch them for ages when Alec finally becomes the Head and figures out that they're actually righting wrongs..._
> 
> I am forever grateful to the beautiful [MoonlightBreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/profile) for beta-ing this sucker and just being an incredible source of encouragement and light. You're the best, Em!
> 
> Also shout-out to the sprinting team on [The Fandom Playhouse](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) server on discord. This story would seriously not have seen the light of day without all of you. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!

_“Ley lines are diverted. Wards are down.”_

Hardison’s hands flew over the keys of his setup. He kept an eye on two monitors while he watched a third in his periphery. “Infiltrating their system now,” he spoke into the comms. “You’d think the second largest Institute in America would have a better security system. Have they even heard of a firewall?”

_“Less talking, more typing.”_

“Shouldn’t you be hitting somebody right now?”

_“Oh, I think you’re about to find out.”_

_“Boys,”_ Parker’s bored voice cut them off. _“Focus.”_

“I’m focused!” Hardison argued, finishing with a flourish of keys. “I’m done, I don’t know what ya’ll are waiting for. Security system’s like Swiss cheese, pick a hole, any hole.” Something caught his eye on his seventh screen. “Eliot, hourly patrol incoming. You can do the hitting thing now, but _don’t_ get seen.”

_“Man, shut the hell up!”_

“Parker, you’re a go for the antiquities room.”

_“So many shiny things…”_

Hardison sat up straighter. “Uh, _no_ \- _Parker_. We’re here for Mrs. Zhou’s nana’s necklace, we don’t have time for you to get distracted.”

_“But Hardison-”_

“Don’t _but Hardison_ me, girl. Get in, get the necklace, get out before the mean Shadowhunters call in reinforcements.”

Parker huffed on the other end of the comms. _“I’ve got the necklace. Coming out. We’re not done with this conversation.”_

_“Shadowhunters neutralized. Tazed ‘em both so they won’t know who got ‘em. Can we go home now?”_

Hardison muted his comms and gave a heavy sigh of relief. These two were gonna kill him.

When the doors to the van opened and Parker and Eliot climbed inside - whole and alive and intact - Hardison decided he almost didn’t mind. Almost.

“Parker, what the hell was that?” Hardison barked when they were both safely back in the van. 

“You guys didn’t see the inside of that vault,” Parker snapped. “There’s thousands of artifacts in there. I’m pretty sure I saw _more than one_ lost Seelie relic and a ton of magical artifacts Nate and Sophie would be dying to get their hands on. Those are _Downworld relics_.” She pulled out the necklace they’d been after. “Mrs. Zhou’s grandmother isn’t the only one they’ve stolen from.”

“And that was just one Institute,” Eliot said from his place in the driver’s seat. “Who knows what else they have hidden away.”

Hardison took the necklace from her with a sigh. It was just for show, but it was a hard habit to break, even when you were dead. 

“Only one way to find out.”

-

Alec stared dumbly down at the three dossiers spread out on his desk. He glanced up to Underhill, sitting in the chair across from him. “How are we _just now_ hearing about this?”

His head of security just sighed. “It’s been a busy year since you became the Head, sir.”

And that was certainly true. In less than a year, he’d gone from _training_ for the Head of the Institute job to being the Acting Head, and then running the damned thing himself. Add taking in the daughter of a radical extremist, finding out his parents were involved with said extremist, finally killing said extremist _and_ his son, one botched marriage and one successful one - yeah, it had been one hell of a year.

“Nice of the Consul to finally loop us in,” he said tightly. “Run it down for me.”

Underhill leaned forward and pointed to the first dossier. “Eliot Spencer. He’s a turned werewolf with no known pack ties. He’s also a professional enforcer in some mob circles, but no known activity with any of those for about ten years. Looks like he was on a black ops military team for a while before he was turned. No known location at the moment.”

Alec nodded to the next one. “Interesting allies.”

“Indeed. This is Alec Hardison. Vampire, turned sometime in the early 1980s. He’s also a loner. We can’t find any record of his clan, but the FBI seems to have quite a lot of information on him.”

Alec raised his eyebrows. “The _mundane_ FBI?”

“Seems that he’s a prolific hacker that’s been bothering them for quite awhile. They’re convinced he’s in his seventies by now. He’s been giving them the digital runaround, and we suspect he’s been in and out of their records, falsifying their information. His location is _also_ unknown.”

“Do I even want to know about the last one?”

“Well, there’s not much to tell you,” Underhill pushed the last folder over. There was just a picture and a sheet of paper with a few sentences. “This is Parker. All we know is that she’s Seelie and a thief.”

“A Seelie _thief_?”

“Yes, but we don’t have any records of what she’s stolen because someone expunged her records, and the Seelie don’t keep track of her anymore.”

Alec would bet his bow and quiver that the vampire hacker had something to do with it. “Okay,” he started. “What you’re telling me is that a werewolf, a vampire, and a full-blooded Seelie have robbed a total of twenty-six Institutes in North America over the past _two years_ \- and all we have are their names?”

Underhill shrugged. “I honestly have no idea why the Clave waited so long to bring us in. The New York Institute is bound to be on their list of places to hit.”

“And we’re sure they haven’t hit us already?” At Underhill’s sour look, Alec lifted the fourth - and much, _much_ heavier - folder. “Half of these Institutes didn’t know they’d even been hit until the Clave started asking for their inventories. Some of those even said their inventory logs had been altered not to even show the item.”

“They’re thorough, but so am I,” Underhill assured him. “I had Jens and Alice cross-check our physical records with our digital ones. Nothing seems to be missing. I think it has to do with our wards.”

Alec nodded, flipping through the folder on the Institute robberies. “I agree. They seem to use the ley lines in whatever city to bring down the wards around the Institute. That, coupled with Seelie magic and whatever hacking the vampire can do, means they can bypass the Institute's security systems.”

“Los Angeles was the first one they hit, and LA hadn’t requested a ward upgrade in decades, until…”

“Two years ago,” Alec finished with a frown. 

Underhill nodded. “Exactly. And Magnus’ wards here are much more powerful.” The Institute’s wards were tied to the ley lines, yes, but the ley lines themselves were tied to Magnus’ magic. They wouldn’t come down so easily. 

“But we could still be next,” Alec agreed. “I’ll loop Magnus in. Maybe he can help us get more information on this crew.”

Something on Underhill’s face twitched. “Well. There’s something else.”

Alec sighed. There was always something else. 

“After the Clave brought this to our attention, I did some digging of my own and I found something.” He set down another two files, and Alec flipped them both open.

“Leverage, LLC?”

“It’s a legitimate company that popped up in LA in 2008. Based on word of mouth and a series of blog posts that Alice found, they help people in underprivileged conditions. They dropped off the radar the next year, though we did find a bank account registered to a Leverage LLC in Boston and then again in Portland, Oregon.”

Alec looked over the information in the file. “So they help out civilians and take down a few corrupt Fortune 500 companies in the meantime.”

He nodded. “It seems like they’ve been trying very hard to _avoid_ involving the Shadow World.”

“Until now.” Something about this crew didn’t seem right. A bunch of vigilante thieves doing whatever they could to help people that couldn’t help themselves. Why would they suddenly switch to committing crimes against the Clave? 

A thought came to mind, and Alec flipped back over to the Clave’s report on the robberies. He combed through the pages until he found what he was looking for. “Well, I think I know why they pivoted.”

-

“Downworlder relics?” Magnus exclaimed. He’d abandoned his martini glass the moment Alec switched from after-dinner cuddling to serious conversation. His husband nodded grimly and took a rather large sip of his wine.

“Everything they stole was confiscated by the Institute in some way or another. Anything that even looked dangerous or valuable was taken - _stolen_.” Alec set down his glass with a little more force than necessary. “Most of them are family heirlooms. I went back through records of the first place they hit, the LA Institute? A werewolf had petitioned the Institute seven times - _seven_ \- to get back a spelled jade necklace that had belonged to her grandmother. It was seized when she was arrested for protesting almost fifty years ago. It wasn’t even flagged as dangerous.” Alec sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure some of them aren’t as harmless, and I should probably just ignore this, but…”

Magnus put a hand on his husband’s shoulder with a rueful smile. “But that’s not who you are, darling. It’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

Alec smiled back. “I love you, too.”

“What’s your plan?” Of course Magnus knew he had one already.

“I’m already having Andrew draw up some language to negotiate the return of any stolen relics in the New York Institute. But I need to talk to them, get them to lay low until I can handle the Clave.”

“That won’t be easy. We should start with a meeting. Small, essential personnel only.”

Alec raised an eyebrow at him. “Warlock Lightwood-Bane, would you like to accompany me to a very small meeting on unofficial Institute business?”

This time when Magnus smiled, he lit up the entire room. “Why, Mr. Lightwood-Bane, I think that would be best.”

“Now we just have to get them to meet. What do you give a team of Downworlder thieves that can steal anything?”

Magnus tilted his head in thought. “Well, we _do_ have something that they want, and couldn’t easily get on their own.”

“And what is that?” Alec frowned.

His husband shrugged and held out his hands. “They’re a triumvirate. A Seelie, a werewolf, and a vampire. Two of them have no problems moving around in the daytime, but the other…”

Alec smiled as he followed Magnus’ train of thought. “You’re a genius,” he said, leaning over for a kiss, which Magnus accepted with a happy sound. Alec then pulled out his cell phone and called a familiar number.

_“I’m in the middle of a patrol right now, what’s up?”_

“I know you’re on patrol, Jace, I put you there.” His parabatai said a few more colorful words that Alec ignored. “When you get back, stop by the infirmary and have Izzy take some of your blood. We need to make friends with a vampire.”

-

Parker was eating cereal when the fire message arrived. She grabbed it out of the air, and the movement drew Eliot’s attention. He huffed when he saw what she was eating.

“Really, Parker?”

“You’ve been hitting that punching bag for like three hours,” she protested. “I was hungry.”

Eliot sighed and nodded to the piece of paper in her hand. “That what I think it is?”

“Yup,” she said, popping the “p” as she handed the message over to him. “Just like you said. They offered us a potato.”

“Carrot.”

“Same thing.”

“No, Parker, it’s a carrot and a stick, not a potato and a --” He stopped when it became clear that she wasn’t listening to him. “You know what, nevermind.”

“Some of us like to _use_ their downtime to sleep,” Hardison drawled as he shuffled into the room and settled himself on the stool next to Parker.

“You don’t need sleep.”

“Yes, Parker, but I _like_ it.” He leaned his head on her shoulder and breathed in her clean, earthy scent. “What does the message say?”

“We got our meeting with Magnus Bane and the New York Institute Head,” Eliot said as he started pulling out ingredients from the fridge. 

“They offered us an apple.”

“You mean a carrot, or an actual apple?”

Eliot aimed a pointed look at them as he fiddled with the blender. “See, Parker? Hardison gets it.”

“Less yammering, more explaining,” Hardison told them, rubbing his temples.

“They offered us Angelic blood for you,” Parker said, and that got Hardison’s attention immediately.

He straightened and frowned. “Why in the hell would they do that?”

“So you can be a Daylighter, obviously,” Eliot deadpanned as he started the blender. Hardison gave him a dirty look. He waited for Eliot to pause before he answered.

“Thank you, genius, I meant why would they even _consider_ that? I’m a vampire, and this is an Institute Head we’re talking about.”

“He’s also married to a male warlock,” Parker pointed out. “His ties to the Clave aren’t exactly ironclad.”

“We knew he was unconventional. The sheer number of transfer requests they received shows his soldiers have a tremendous amount of respect for him.” 

Hardison gave Eliot a questioning look, and the werewolf shrugged as he poured a bag of blood into the blender. “I do read the reports you give me, you know,” Eliot grumbled.

“Still,” Hardison continued. “He’s a Shadowhunter. I don’t drink blood without knowing where it comes from.”

“Oh, you’re gonna drink that blood if I have to feed it to you with a syringe,” Eliot threatened. 

“Excuse you, I’m doing _just fine_ with my regular night-walking-vampire-undead-ness, thank you very much.”

“You complain every time we have to put up the UV screens on the windows,” Parker interjected. Hardison turned to her and gave her a betrayed look. She just shrugged. “We wanted to catch the Institute’s attention, and we did. It’s just an extra bonus if we get something for you out of it, too.”

“But-” Eliot started the blender again. When it stopped, Hardison opened his mouth to continue.

Eliot kept pulsing the blender.

Hardison glared at him with crossed arms. He stayed quiet, and Eliot poured the blender’s contents into an awaiting glass and slid it forward.

“I’ll make you one just like this once we get that Angel blood,” he promised with a smirk.

“You are _so_ lucky we need that meeting,” Hardison groused, taking a sip of his admittedly delicious smoothie. 

Eliot’s smirk turned into a full grin as he sauntered out of the room, presumably to go shower.

Parker opened her mouth, but Hardison held out a hand to stop her. He waited until he heard the shower running from the next room and then nodded.

“I don’t like keeping things from him,” she said.

“Neither do I, but Parker, you know how this would go.”

She did, but she wasn’t happy about it. “Do you really think Magnus will help us?”

Hardison shrugged. “Nate and Sophie said if there was one warlock they knew that could make the potion, it was him. We just have to make it worth his while.” He kept an eye on the door to the bedroom. “Luckily, he’s in the same boat as us.”

-

The meeting was scheduled for the following night, and Magnus had agreed to host it at his loft. They had gone back and forth on the meeting place a few times, but ultimately both sides had agreed that the loft was a neutral enough venue.

Jace had squawked at the prospect of donating his Angelic blood to a vampire that he didn’t know, but Alec - and Magnus - had reassured him that it was all being negotiated in good faith. Ultimately, Jace trusted his parabatai, and Alec trusted Magnus. 

“Nice place you have,” the vampire - _Alec Hardison, call me Hardison, it’s less confusing_ \- complimented. He sat on the couch with the blonde Seelie, Parker, perched next to him on the arm. The werewolf stood in the corner of the room, stoic and unmoving. Alec didn’t even have to look at him to know that Eliot Spencer’s eyes were pinned on him. If the roles were reversed, Alec would want to keep Eliot in his sightline at all times, too.

“Why, thank you,” Magnus responded cheerily as he sat down two mugs of tea in front of them - one with blood, one without. 

Parker took Hardison’s first and sniffed it before handing it to him. She caught Magnus’ eye and shrugged. “Habit. No offense meant.”

“None taken,” he responded easily. 

Alec shifted in his seat, straightening. “Now, if we could get down to business-”

“Angelic blood first.” 

Everyone’s attention snapped to Eliot in his corner.

“It was a good faith gesture, right?” the werewolf continued. “Show us the good faith.” He looked right at Alec when he said it, and Alec held his gaze. 

Alec nodded, and Magnus took it as his cue. The warlock snapped his fingers and materialized a vial of blood. 

“This is just the first dose.” Magnus explained. “You’ll get the rest after we’re finished here.”

“That wasn’t the deal,” Eliot growled.

“The deal was you come to the meeting, and you’ll get Angelic blood,” Alec returned. “You’re here, and you’re getting Angelic blood.”

Parker snorted. “And people say the fae are tricksters. We’ve got nothing on you Shadowhunters.”

Alec shook his head. “No tricks. We just want to make sure you stay in one place long enough to hear us out.”

“Let’s just all simmer down,” Hardison said, exchanging looks with his two cohorts before turning back to Alec and Magnus. “We’ll take the first dose, thank you. But you’ll understand if I test it first before I drink it. I don’t go around drinking blood from strangers on the reg.”

“Of course,” Magnus said with a sweep of his hand. “The preservation spell I cast on it is ongoing, so do as many tests as you like.”

“Nifty,” Hardison said as he pocketed the vial and then turned his attention to Alec. “Alright, pretty boy, now we can talk about your relics.”

Magnus looked delighted, and Alec fought down a frown with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve stolen a few dozen relics from Institutes across North America. While most of them were innocuous, there were a few precious artifacts-”

“So precious your Clave didn’t even notice they’d been stolen,” Parker interrupted as she took a big slurp of her tea.

Alec didn’t miss a beat. “What you’re trying to accomplish is commendable, but there are proper channels we have to go through.”

“Most of our clients have gone through your proper channels,” Eliot noted. “They were ignored, so we intervened.” 

The vampire set down his tea and leaned forward. “Look, pretty boy, if we trusted the Clave to handle the safe return of those items, we wouldn’t have to steal them.”

“And for that, I apologize,” Alec said sincerely. “But you’ve caught the Clave’s attention now, and they’re not just going to let this go. They’ll come after you, and the next person they send won’t be diplomatic about it.”

He paused for a moment as they looked at each other, like they were having an unspoken conversation. Alec noted the way Eliot seemed to defer to Hardison, and Hardison always checked in with Parker. Their ease of communication wasn’t exactly on the level of his and Jace’s connection - nothing really was - but it reminded him of the way he and Magnus could just feel each other sometimes. It was so easy, but being with Magnus was always easy.

Oh.

_Oh._

Well, at least he knew he wouldn’t have to take Hardison’s flirting too seriously.

“As Institute Head, I’m prepared to start a conversation with the Clave,” Alec offered. “The New York Institute is actively working to identify any improperly obtained artifacts as we speak.”

“I can assure you that myself and the rest of the Downworld leaders will help expedite the process and find anyone in our factions that might have been affected,” Magnus added. 

“And that’s just in New York,” Alec said. “We’re working on a proposal that would implement this procedure in every Institute, starting with the largest.”

Hardison huffed in contempt. “Bold of you to assume the Clave would even consider such a thing.”

“My husband just passed a motion to admit Downworlders entrance to Alicante, Mr. Hardison,” Magnus retorted. “Bold is only one of his many good qualities.”

Alec smiled and let himself bask in Magnus’ compliment. Magnus was teaching him how to accept praise more easily.

“Good to know you’re not just a pretty face, Alec Lightwood-Bane,” Hardison said with a smile that was all teeth. “Now that we know you’re trustworthy, we can get down to the real reason we needed this audience.”

Just like that, Alec’s good mood vanished. “ _You_ needed this audience?” He repeated. 

Hardison shrugged. “We knew the Clave would catch on eventually, but we needed to catch _your_ attention, in particular.”

“Actually, we needed _him,_ ” Parker nodded at Magnus.

Alec sat a little straighter. Magnus sensed his concern and placed his hand over Alec’s own on the couch, entwining their fingers.

“And why is that?” Magnus asked, his voice the practiced calm of someone with immeasurable power - which he had.

“Nathan Ford and Sophie Deveraux send their regards.”

Alec kept his focus on the vampire, but he squeezed Magnus’ hand in question. But Magnus relaxed when he heard the names.

“Nate and Sophie?” He asked, and he sounded lighter than he had before. 

“They said you might be able to help us with...a problem we have.” 

Parker may have been the one that said the words, but it was Eliot that caught Alec’s attention. The werewolf had shifted his stance from relaxed to _appearing_ relaxed. Alec was a soldier, too. He would recognize the difference anywhere, at any time. It was that stance that told Alec that this conversation was one Eliot had not been ready for.

The vampire pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to Magnus. “We need you to make a potion using these ingredients.”

“ _Hardison,_ ” Eliot growled and took a step forward. Hardison held up a hand but otherwise ignored him.

Magnus took a long look at the ingredients and went stiff. Alec frowned and leaned in to read over it, and his mind went blank, numbness seeping through him.

“This is…” Magnus started.

“Do you have all the ingredients?” Alec interrupted. 

Hardison nodded with a satisfied grin. “Every one of ‘em.”

Magnus was stunned. “ _How_?”

“We’re thieves,” Parker deadpanned. “How do you think?”

Magnus sputtered. “You would have had to break into no less than-”

“Seven secure Clave facilities _and_ the Spiral Labyrinth,” Eliot finished, and everyone in the room could tell he was fuming now. “I _told_ y'all it wasn’t worth it! And you did it anyway!” 

“Of course it was worth it,” Hardison told him, staring the werewolf down like he wasn’t two hundred pounds of angry. “ _You_ are worth it.”

Parker sighed. “This is why we didn’t tell you. We knew you’d be upset-”

“Upset?” Eliot challenged. “Oh, upset don’t cover it. You two _risked your lives_ getting ingredients for an _immortality_ potion I _specifically told you_ I didn’t need.” His eyes flashed yellow, and Alec suppressed every instinct screaming at him to respond. 

“I’m not sorry,” Hardison said quietly. “Don’t ask me to be sorry, man, because I never will be. You think this is just about you? I’m selfish as _fuck_ , and I don’t want to lose you. Deal with it.”

“You fucking-”

“It’s done,” Alec cut in, trying to shake off the numbness he felt. “They have the ingredients, they already took the risk. You can’t change it.” 

Eliot took in a few deep breaths until his eyes went back to their natural blue color. “No,” he agreed. “But I can be mad as hell about it.” He crossed his arms and strode over to the balcony, slamming the French doors shut with a little more force than necessary. 

Hardison started to get up to go after him, but Parker kept him seated. “He’s not going anywhere,” she said confidently. “Let him stew.”

“While I am sympathetic to your cause,” Magnus interjected, bringing the conversation back around. “This is a _very_ difficult potion to brew.” 

“You’re a Prince of Hell, by blood,” Parker said. “You’re the only warlock with enough power to pull this off.”

“Then I’ll be more direct. Why would I risk my life and my power to create an immortality potion for a werewolf I don’t know very well?”

Hardison met his challenging stare. “Because we have enough for a double batch.”

The whole room froze.

“Say that again,” Magnus said, and it was the most deadly Alec had ever heard him.

“We knew you’d drive a hard bargain, so we brought two of each ingredient. One potion, two doses…” Hardison’s eyes moved to rest on Alec. “For two mortals.”

Alec’s heart pounded in his chest. He and Magnus had already had the difficult conversations, the shouting matches that had devolved into desperate sobs. They’d already discussed forever - how Alec wanted it more than anything and how it terrified Magnus to no end. But they had worked through their concerns, and they’d started searching for an answer. Magnus had found this exact potion six months ago, but they had dismissed it due to its impossible-to-find ingredients.

And now here it was, right in front of them.

“Well, you’ve certainly thought of everything, haven’t you?” Magnus drawled, folding the list very deliberately. 

Hardison held up his hands. “I know the side-effects are tricky. If you need time to think it over-”

“We don’t,” Alec blurted, and all eyes turned to him. “Need time, that is.” He looked over at Magnus. “We know what we want.”

Magnus smiled at him, and Alec could feel the affection in his bones, warming him to his core. “That we do,” he agreed. “But Alexander _will_ need time to make arrangements with the Clave, as well as inform his family.”

Alec flushed, embarrassed. He knew there were steps to be taken. He had touched on the subject with Izzy and Jace, but they wouldn’t be expecting this to happen so soon. Alec had even started to wonder if it would happen at all.

But it _was_ happening.

“It’ll still take a few weeks to brew,” Parker pointed out. “How about I bring over the ingredients tomorrow, and we can take it from there?”

Alec withdrew enough from his thoughts to nod and give her a brief smile before she and Magnus worked out the details. He looked up and saw Eliot watching him from the balcony. Alec didn’t let himself think too much about it, and he got up with a vague excuse of getting some air.

Out on the balcony, Eliot was still stationed near the door, standing at profile so he could still keep an eye on the pair inside.

 _Once a soldier,_ Alec thought.

“He really loves you.”

Eliot’s words drew Alec’s attention, and he frowned over at the werewolf.

“The way he looks at you,” Eliot continued, shrugging his shoulders. “You’re it for him. You die, he’d never get over it. He’d fade away, like they say some immortals do.”

Alec could follow his logic. “You think they don’t look at you like that, too?” He asked genuinely.

Eliot tilted his head and crossed his arms tight over his chest. “They love me, I know that. But… it’s different with them. They found each other before me, and they’ll have each other after me, too.”

Alec studied him for a moment, and then decided he could just say what he was thinking. “As someone who’s also in love with an immortal, I know that’s utter bullshit.”

Eliot gave him a sideways glare, but Alec didn’t stop talking.

“The concept of living forever is pretty terrifying, and I think it scares the shit out of you.” 

“Living forever doesn’t scare me,” Eliot insisted with a growl.

“It scares me,” Alec admitted with a shrug. Eliot stared at him openly this time, so Alec continued. “It’s not even watching the people I love die - that’s not the hard part for people like us, soldiers die around us every day. It’s the _living_ that’s the hard part.”

Eliot stayed quiet, but Alec could tell his words had landed.

“It’s something I want, don’t get me wrong,” Alec rambled on. “But I’m terrified that he might get tired of me one day, or worse - I’d get tired of him. I tell myself that I won’t, but… I’ve been ready to die since I was twelve and went on my first patrol. I’ve had to live every day like it would be my last, and I don’t know how _not_ to do that.” He straightened and took a deep breath. “So yeah, it scares me. But I love him too much to let that fear get in the way of us.”

Another few moments of silence passed, and then Eliot said, “For the record, I don’t think you’ll ever get tired of each other.”

“For the record, I don’t think they’ll get tired of you, either.”

Eliot looked at him with unblinking eyes, and Alec knew he’d hit it in one.

“What if they do?” he all but whispered.

“It’s not gonna happen,” Alec insisted. “But if it does, come find me and I’ll keep you company until they get their heads out of their asses.”

Eliot’s mouth quirked upwards in a reluctant smile, but he nodded. “Yeah. And uh, you too. I can’t see it happening, but, you know.”

Alec smiled. “Yeah. Will do.” He turned to go back inside.

“Hey.”

Alec turned back, and Eliot gave him a nod. “Thanks.”

The Shadowhunter nodded in turn. “Anytime.”

-

The next few weeks were a whirlwind.

Magnus and Parker worked painstakingly on the potion while Alec got his affairs in order at the Institute. Hardison became a Daylighter, so he was busy doing things in the daytime that he hadn’t been able to do. He also had his hands full with meetings with Alec’s head of security to discuss the safe return of any confiscated Downworld relics. And Eliot…

Eliot buried himself in training.

After their chat, Alec had extended an open invitation to Eliot to come train at the New York Institute. Eliot was grateful for the distraction. He went through an entire class of advanced recruits before Alec’s parabatai cut in, wanting to spar. He was more of a challenge, and Eliot liked to get under his skin.

“That all you got, blondie?” Eliot goaded after a particularly nasty hit one day. He never had to pull punches with these Shadowhunters. It was _so_ satisfying.

Jace spat out some blood and activated one of his healing runes. He did it enough that Eliot knew what it was and sportively called him a cheater. “You wish, dog breath.”

Yeah, Jace was fun to spar with - but it was Alec that kept Eliot on his toes.

They tried to go a few rounds every week. Those were always the most taxing, when Eliot could really let loose and get creative. Alec was _fast_ , even without activating his Speed rune. He always wanted to learn, and Eliot was all too happy to teach him, especially if it meant putting the Shadowhunter on his ass. More often than not though, their sessions would end in a stalemate, both of them dripping in sweat and grinning wildly. 

Eliot liked it when Hardison surfaced long enough to catch those sessions. It always resulted in the vampire shoving him into a spare bedroom or closet. Or, one memorable time, Hardison barked out an order to Magnus - who had just confiscated his husband - and pushed Eliot through a hastily-made portal. Yeah, that had been pretty great.

But mostly, Eliot just played the waiting game. It was the longest break they’d gone without a job in awhile, and he was starting to get restless. Thankfully, by the time he was ready to crawl out of his skin, Magnus had announced that the potion was ready.

They met back at Magnus’ loft to take the potion. It had been the plan from the beginning that Alec and Eliot would undergo the transformation there. Eliot had discussed the details with Magnus, and they had a plan of attack.

Predictably, Hardison and Parker weren’t happy.

“Why the heck does Eliot gotta be the guinea pig, huh?”

“I volunteered, Hardison.”

“Well, you’re an idiot and you should’ve said no!”

Eliot threw his hands up in the air. “Will you just cool it already? We _knew_ about the side effects. This is not news.”

“Eliot’s got a point,” Parker pointed out quietly. “Can’t get mad at a potion if you know the main ingredient is preserved phoenix heart.”

The heart of a phoenix, including being damn near impossible to find, was one of the only things that could turn a mortal into an immortal. The caveat, of course, was that the mortal had to die in order to be reborn as an immortal.

“I just don’t get why they can’t take it together,” Hardison fumed. 

“We _could_ take it together,” Alec chimed in. He’d been on Hardison’s side the whole time, and he wasn’t happy about Eliot taking the potion first, either. 

Hardison gestured wildly at him. “See? Equal risk, equal reward.”

“Equal loss,” Eliot stated. He gave Hardison a hard stare, and the vampire seemed to deflate. “You know I have to go first.”

Hardison gave out one of those incredibly put-upon sighs that he didn’t need to do on account of him not needing to breathe anymore. “You’re a stubborn fool is what I know,” he grumbled, but Eliot could tell the fight was out of him.

Magnus passed Eliot the vial of glowing potion, and Eliot could feel the power pulsing from it. One look at the warlock and Eliot could tell that brewing it had taken almost every ounce of energy he had. The glamour he had that usually covered his warlock Mark was gone, and he wore only the faintest amount of makeup. The fact that he kept hold of Alec to steady himself was another dead giveaway. 

Eliot didn’t want to imagine what would happen to Magnus if Alec took the potion and it didn’t work.

“The good news is,” Magnus said, drawing Eliot from his thoughts. “In all accounts that I’ve read, the potion will only kill you if it works.”

Eliot stared at him. “Thanks,” he said lamely. Magnus had said it to be comforting but… it wasn’t.

Magnus smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. Then he stepped back and nodded over to Parker.

Parker was scarily good with ley lines and wards, hence all their success with robbing Institutes. She and Magnus had decided it would be safer to put up a bubble-like ward around Eliot just in case things got...hot. Literally.

Eliot smelled Parker’s earthy magic as it surrounded him, felt it like a hug she would give him sometimes if she knew he needed touch. Now _that_ was comforting.

He uncorked the vial. It smelled spicy and tickled his nose. Eliot spared one final glance up to Hardison and Parker, but he didn’t linger. This wouldn’t be goodbye. He drank the potion in one go.

He felt heat, uncontrollable heat and then… nothing.

-

Eliot blinked his eyes open, and he felt like he’d just spent three months in the desert rationing water like he had that one time. It was not a good feeling. Every inch of him felt sunburned, and his mouth was like ash.

Except his mouth was _literally_ ash. Eliot sputtered and tried to wipe it from his face, only to find that his entire body was covered in it.

He was also naked. Which, damnit. Talk about unfortunate nudity.

A very Hardison-distinctive whimper drew Eliot’s attention to the other side of the room. Everyone was staring at him, with mixes of astonishment and wonder - Alec and Parker - as well as looking like they were one second away from tossing their cookies -- Magnus and Hardison.

“Could someone get me some clothes, please?” Eliot said, sounding more than a little strained.

After Magnus had magicked him a set of comfortable clothes and Eliot stopped noticing how much his skin felt like it had been melted off - which it had - it was Alec’s turn.

Somehow, even seeing Eliot successfully go through the transformation hadn’t quieted anyone’s concern. And as he watched Alec take the potion, Eliot could understand why.

Alec literally burst into flames.

Magnus made a pained sound and Eliot found himself reaching out to place a hand on the warlock’s shoulder. He didn’t know if it was comforting, but the way Magnus covered it with his own hand and hung on for dear life suggested it might have been.

It felt like an eternity. The flames burned and burned, and Eliot could hear an undercurrent of high-pitched sounds under the roar. 

It took Eliot a moment to realize that the noise was Alec. He was screaming.

An immeasurable amount of time later, the flames started to die down. When Parker felt she could drop her wards and the smoke finally cleared, all of them stared at Alec, frozen in place. 

“That’s...unusual,” Hardison finally croaked out.

The runes that had once been starkly black on the Shadowhunter’s skin were now a shimmering gold. Alec’s eyes were blazing with red fire and he fell to his knees, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. In a desert. While on fire.

Magnus approached him slowly, and Eliot was sure the entire room was holding its breath. The warlock put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Alec flinched, jaw and eyelids clenched. Magnus made a worried sound, but Alec held on to his forearm to keep the warlock from pulling away.

“I’m okay,” he whispered. Eliot realized that if Alec’s screaming had caused his voice to sound so wrecked, Eliot had probably screamed the whole time, too. “It’s just… a lot.”

Magnus snapped his fingers and summoned a soft-looking robe for his husband, but he never withdrew his hand from Alec’s skin. Eliot could smell the magic in the air as it pulsed around them. He knew the familiar, cool scent of Magnus’ magic. Alec had always had the smell of worn leather and that sandalwood soap he and Magnus always used, but now it was intrinsically layered with the smell of smoke and fire.

Parker nudged him, and Eliot jumped. Sensitive skin, check.

“You okay?” she asked, and Eliot realized he’d been frowning. He took a deep breath as Hardison smoothed a careful hand across his shoulders and settled at the base of Eliot’s neck, cupping the back of his head with strong fingers.

Eliot nodded, but it felt like he was moving through water. Hardison’s fingers anchored him, but he could tell that his system was fried.

“We need to get him out of here,” he heard Hardison say, and he sounded far away. 

“Whatever you need,” Magnus said, and there was the distinct _pop_ of a portal opening. 

If there was anything else said, Eliot didn’t hear it. The next thing he knew, they were back in their rental in Queens. Hardison tried to move away, but Eliot clung to his arm. Parker made a comforting sound and slowly pried Eliot’s fingers off of Hardison’s arm, but replaced his hand on Eliot’s skin with her own. Eliot hummed in content.

“Clothes on or off?” Hardison murmured into his ear, and Eliot shivered. _Fuck_ , he was sensitive. It occurred to him that it was probably why Hardison had asked - Eliot usually preferred no clothes, but his skin felt like it was on _fire_ …

His eyes snapped open just to make sure that his skin wasn’t _literally_ on fire, because that was apparently _a thing_ now. Hardison smoothed his hands up Eliot’s sides under his shirt, and _fuck_ that felt good. His hands felt cool and soothing on his heated skin, so he said, “Off, clothes off,” or he may have said it a few times, because both Parker and Hardison stripped him in no time.

They were somehow in the bedroom, so Eliot moved them all to the bed. Again, somehow, they were all naked, and Eliot’s skin felt less like a raw sunburn. He only realized his heart had been pounding in his chest when he noticed it had slowed. He’d always hated not having control over his body, and this was no different. But with this transformation, at least, Eliot knew he wasn’t alone. 

They laid together like that for a long time. Eliot was content to be sandwiched between them, Hardison’s cool body stretched against his side and Parker’s earthy scent filling his nose. When he felt calmer, he said the only thing he could. “What the _fuck_ was that?”

Hardison chuckled into the skin of Eliot’s shoulder. “You’re a phoenix now, buddy,” he said helpfully, but it wasn’t at all helpful. What did that even mean?

“Well,” Parker interrupted. “You’re still a werewolf,” and yeah, Eliot felt that. His senses were still heightened, and the urge to shift was still there. He knew he could shift if he wanted to. “But you’ve definitely got some phoenix… extras.”

“I’ll say,” Hardison huffed. “Your body needed to be cooled down. Luckily, Ice Man is here.” He snuggled closer to Eliot, and Eliot couldn’t even be mad at him for the pun because _damn_ it felt so good to be pressed against him. “That fire was no joke. Think it’ll happen like that every time?”

Eliot could only make an “I don’t know” noise. After a moment, he needed to use his words. “What happened to Alec?” 

“No idea,” Hardison answered. “Pretty sure runes aren’t supposed to be gold like that.”

Parker shook her head. “Magnus said they were prepared for the fact that he might not be a Nephilim after the transformation, but the runes would have either scarred over or disappeared. He’s still a Nephilim, just…”

“Extra,” Eliot finished. He felt Parker nod from her place tucked up under his chin. “He’ll be okay,” he said, feeling a wave of exhaustion set in. He’d be asleep in a few minutes, for sure. “He’s got Magnus.”

“Will you be okay?” Parker asked against his skin, and it was the smallest and most vulnerable he’d heard her in awhile.

Eliot hummed as his eyes fell shut. “I’ll be good. I have y'all.”

Hardison’s arms tightened around him. “Damn straight.” 

“Forever,” Parker added.

Eliot used the last of his waking strength to nod before he drifted off. “Yeah. Forever.”

-

Alec may have been the one on fire, but it was Magnus that felt like he’d been flayed alive. It had been eight hours since he’d ushered Alec into bed, his husband practically dead on his feet. 

_Not dead though_ , Magnus thought. No, they wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. It was something that both excited and terrified Magnus to no end. There wasn’t any use worrying about it now, though. It was done. Alec was… 

Magnus didn’t _know_ what he was, and that was the thing eating at him. He’d run a few magical diagnostics in the first few hours after Alec had collapsed into bed, but all the readings showed him was that his Shadowhunter was the picture of health. He just ran about ten degrees hotter than normal. 

The thing about using an ancient creature’s heart in a potion was that there was no real guideline for what powers it might grant to say, a Nephilim or a werewolf. 

Magnus laid down softly next to his husband, his gaze moving over the runes on his skin. They were still a shimmering gold, swirling and impossibly _alive_. His magic recognized the power in them - still Nephilim, but also… _other_. Alec had his own magic now, something ancient and wild. It was nothing Magnus had ever felt before.

Alec stirred, and Magnus moved closer to him. He reached out slowly and entwined their fingers. Alec made a breathy, happy sound and pulled Magnus’ hand up to lay kisses over his knuckles. He blinked open hazel eyes and smiled sleepily at his husband.

“Hey,” he greeted, and Magnus had to force himself _not_ to melt into a puddle right there.

“You don’t get to do that,” he said seriously.

“Do what?”

“Be… _endearing_ and _warm_ and _sweet_.” Magnus gave him a hard glare. “You scared me, Alexander.”

Alec sighed and brought them even closer so he could cup Magnus’ jaw in his hand. Magnus couldn’t help but sink into the touch. “I know, and I’m sorry.” Alec leaned forward and Magnus met him for a kiss. After a long moment, Alec broke away with a sideways grin. “Plus side, though? I think I’m immortal.”

Magnus smacked his chest and didn’t even feel bad when Alec hissed in surprise. “Serves you right for joking about this,” he muttered darkly as he sat up.

“Magnus, I’m fine,” Alec insisted and tried to pull him close again. Magnus batted his hands away with a scoff.

“You are not _fine,_ ” he insisted and waved his hands at Alec’s glimmering runes. “ _T_ _hat_ is not fine. I’m not even sure what that is, but it’s definitely not _fine_.”

“Okay, maybe the whole situation isn’t exactly fine,” Alec admitted as he sat up gingerly. “But I feel great - better than great, actually.”

Magnus gave him a skeptical look, but there really was nothing Magnus could argue about that. His magic had already determined that Alec was healthy, and now his husband sat in front of him and said the same thing. It was just so hard to believe that everything could be… fine. That the potion had worked perfectly and nothing had gone wrong. 

That would definitely be a first.

“How do they feel?” Magnus asked when he saw Alec staring down at the golden swirls on his body.

Alec’s face scrunched in thought. “The same, but also… different?”

“Helpful,” Magnus snarked.

“I don’t know how else to describe it,” Alec returned. “I know I can activate them like always, but they just feel… closer to the surface, if that makes sense.”

Magnus hummed in thought and reached out to touch Alec’s Deflect rune on his neck, but hesitated. “May I?”

Alec _blushed_. “They don’t uh, hurt, exactly,” He tried to look away, but Magnus had seen that embarrassed look on his husband’s face too many times to miss what it meant. He grinned from ear to ear.

“Oh really,” Magnus teased, thumbing over the rune. He felt a rush of magic sweep over him as Alec shuddered and bit his lip in a way that Magnus knew _very_ well.

“ _Magnus_.” The way Alec groaned his name made Magnus want to forget all their troubles and just push him back into bed. Alec seemed to have the same idea, because the next thing Magnus knew, his husband had yanked him into his lap and devoured him in a kiss.

A gentle pulsing drew Magnus’ attention, and he pulled back just for a moment, long enough to notice that Alec’s Strength rune seemed to be shining more than the others. Alec’s tongue swiped over a sensitive spot on Magnus’ jaw, and the warlock gasped. He felt another pulse and the Stamina rune lit up in the same way.

Magnus couldn’t help it - he burst out laughing. Alec pulled back with a questioning noise and Magnus gestured at his glowing runes. Alec frowned for a moment and then a wave of understanding crossed his face, and he was blushing again. 

“Looks like we found out what ‘different’ means,” Magnus chuckled. It appeared that Alec could activate his runes without using a stele, and that his own magic would activate them instinctively.

“Oh, darling,” he said fondly as Alec looked up at him with wide, phoenix-red eyes. “This is going to be fun.”

_fin_


End file.
